Communication is defined as a process through which individuals interact and use symbols to create, share and interpret meaning. Communication is constant and systematic; that is, it involves different, interrelated parts (always at work, always in tandem, affecting one another) creating meaning within “the whole” of whatever is being communicated.
We use our ability to communicate for a variety of purposes: to teach, exchange information, tell others what we are thinking or convey requests. We communicate with each other every time we express our opinions, explain and clarify ourselves, and iron out our differences. An effective communicator knows how to take information and pass it along to others (“an audience”) in such a way that the information is interesting and useful.
On any given day, in all of our individual lives, we usefully and effectively communicate through narratives—the ones we take in as well as the ones we share with others.
A narrative is basically a story—an account of events or experiences, whether true or fictitious. Humans are narrative beings—we are characterized by the fact that we tell stories to each other (not to mention the way we tell stories to each other). We watch television, go to movies and plays, listen to music, write and read novels, novellas, short stories, newspapers, magazines and web blogs specifically to take narrative content (provided to us by “storytellers” worldwide) and relate it to our own feelings, attitudes, ideas and beliefs.
Here are a few examples. Radio personalities convey stories to us during our morning commute into school or work. (If we relate to their narratives, we stay tuned in. If we don’t relate to their narratives, we tune out.) We often tell jokes and funny stories amidst our daily tasks; when we laugh, it is because we relate to the humor imbedded in the joke’s narrative and can connect it back to our own sometimes comical lives. (What we find funny or unfunny—the kinds of narrative jokes we tell and won’t tell—communicates a great deal about our personality.) Lunchroom gossip almost always takes story form; we use narratives to “dish the dirt” to our cafeteria comrades. Additionally, we would be hard-pressed to tell dinner companions how our day went without presenting the events as a story.
In short, experiencing a narrative is never a passive experience. Our perspective on the world at large is really just a set of stories from which we make sense of ourselves. When we identify with a narrative—that is, when we personally connect with one or more of story’s interrelated parts, or if we see our self-perception communicated by a story as a whole—we are engaging in the communication process.
Regardless of whether our narratives are fact-based or fantasy, long or short, a novel or novella, in the movies or on television, they are almost always structured around Literary Elements. From the lengthiest books to the simplest fairytales, we are bombarded with stories containing complex literary elements. The narratives we tell are imbedded with literary elements—even when we don’t set out to purposefully construct personal stories with “literary merit” in mind.
After we take in a narrative—start to finish—we can reflect on the experience, detach those moments from the narrative that affected us most deeply, categorize them using literary terminology, and determine how and why these specific literary elements were used. When we engage in Literary Analysis, we interact with an entire narrative, isolate its individual literary “parts,” then interpret, talk and write about the important, intricate symbols that are not immediately noticeable or accessible.
Submissively reading, viewing or hearing a narrative won’t cut it. The true meaning of our favorite books, stories, television programs and films sits below the surface—hiding, waiting, wanting to be discovered, dissected and discussed.
We use our ability to communicate for a variety of purposes: to teach, exchange information, tell others what we are thinking or convey requests. We communicate with each other every time we express our opinions, explain and clarify ourselves, and iron out our differences. An effective communicator knows how to take information and pass it along to others (“an audience”) in such a way that the information is interesting and useful.
On any given day, in all of our individual lives, we usefully and effectively communicate through narratives—the ones we take in as well as the ones we share with others.
A narrative is basically a story—an account of events or experiences, whether true or fictitious. Humans are narrative beings—we are characterized by the fact that we tell stories to each other (not to mention the way we tell stories to each other). We watch television, go to movies and plays, listen to music, write and read novels, novellas, short stories, newspapers, magazines and web blogs specifically to take narrative content (provided to us by “storytellers” worldwide) and relate it to our own feelings, attitudes, ideas and beliefs.
Here are a few examples. Radio personalities convey stories to us during our morning commute into school or work. (If we relate to their narratives, we stay tuned in. If we don’t relate to their narratives, we tune out.) We often tell jokes and funny stories amidst our daily tasks; when we laugh, it is because we relate to the humor imbedded in the joke’s narrative and can connect it back to our own sometimes comical lives. (What we find funny or unfunny—the kinds of narrative jokes we tell and won’t tell—communicates a great deal about our personality.) Lunchroom gossip almost always takes story form; we use narratives to “dish the dirt” to our cafeteria comrades. Additionally, we would be hard-pressed to tell dinner companions how our day went without presenting the events as a story.
In short, experiencing a narrative is never a passive experience. Our perspective on the world at large is really just a set of stories from which we make sense of ourselves. When we identify with a narrative—that is, when we personally connect with one or more of story’s interrelated parts, or if we see our self-perception communicated by a story as a whole—we are engaging in the communication process.
Regardless of whether our narratives are fact-based or fantasy, long or short, a novel or novella, in the movies or on television, they are almost always structured around Literary Elements. From the lengthiest books to the simplest fairytales, we are bombarded with stories containing complex literary elements. The narratives we tell are imbedded with literary elements—even when we don’t set out to purposefully construct personal stories with “literary merit” in mind.
After we take in a narrative—start to finish—we can reflect on the experience, detach those moments from the narrative that affected us most deeply, categorize them using literary terminology, and determine how and why these specific literary elements were used. When we engage in Literary Analysis, we interact with an entire narrative, isolate its individual literary “parts,” then interpret, talk and write about the important, intricate symbols that are not immediately noticeable or accessible.
Submissively reading, viewing or hearing a narrative won’t cut it. The true meaning of our favorite books, stories, television programs and films sits below the surface—hiding, waiting, wanting to be discovered, dissected and discussed.